Stag Fill-In

Desperate mom goes for an interview

Frank’s office building wasn’t located in the best part of town. The office itself, though, was very tastefully decorated. He had a nice large desk in one corner. In the other corner he had a leather sofa, a coffee table and a large screen TV. Frank was alone. As expected, he was black. He was also ruggedly attractive. He thanked me for meeting him at such short notice. He also let me know that he had an appointment with another candidate in an hour and a half. Competition!

He asked if he could get me something to drink. I declined. He asked if I was sure I wanted to proceed. I nodded. He directed me toward the sofa and offered me a seat. He sat down beside me. I was a bit embarrassed when I realized that the front of my blouse had gaped open, affording him a nice view of my tits. I also noticed that when I sat in the low-slung couch my skirt had ridden up, revealing the elasticized tops of my stockings. To me, this looked far too suggestive. In an attempt to correct the situation I shifted my hips toward him and crossed my legs. This helped as far as the blouse was concerned, but it only seemed to make my skirt ride up even higher: now the flesh above my stocking tops was showing.

“Relax,” he said, taking my left hand gently in his. “Look,” he said, “I know you’re new to this, so let me begin by telling you a little bit about the services my girls perform at stag parties.” I don’t know why, but I was surprised to find that those services usually went far beyond stripping and often involved intercourse. The farther things went, though, the better it paid.

As Frank was explaining all this, he continued to hold my hand. “Now that you know what is required, are you sure you want to proceed, especially given this?” he asked, pointing out my wedding band. I nodded. I needed the money. “OK then,” he said, “I need to know what you’d be willing to do.” We went through a kind of checklist.

“Would you be prepared to strip in front of a group of men?” Frank asked. “Yes, of course,” I replied. “Do you know how you’d react? I mean, have you ever before been naked in front of a group of men?” he asked. I nodded: it had happened once. “Did you find it exciting?” he asked. Again I nodded.

“How about touching yourself, you know, masturbating?” he asked. “Yeah, I suppose. That would be an ‘extra’, right?” I asked. “No, playing with yourself is standard stuff,” he explained. “Alright,” I said, “I’m sure I could do that.”

“How about performing with sex toys?” he asked. “I don’t know. I guess so. I’ve never done anything like that,” I confessed. “Would you be prepared to give a blow job, say, to the groom?” he went on. “Yes,” I answered. “In front of the others, if it paid a little more?” he asked. “I don’t know, maybe,” I replied, unsure of myself. Frank rested his hand on my knee and asked, “Does this bother you?” I said nothing.

Frank moved a little closer to me on the couch. “Would you be prepared to let, say, the groom touch you in front of the others?” he asked. “Yes,” I replied. I looked down at his black hand on my white stockings, which was now just above my knee. It was so erotic. “Would you let the groom eat you out for a little extra?” he asked. “I don’t know about that … you mean in front of the others?” I asked. “Yes, in front of the others,” he replied. “Maybe … but it would have to pay well” I replied.

“For a little more, would you mind if the groom wanted to fuck you?” he asked. “No, I don’t think I could go that far,” I replied. “Too bad,” he said. “That rules out this Saturday and it rules out most other stags too because you really have to be prepared to fuck the groom if he wants to do it. Not all of them want to, you understand, but there can’t be any hesitation going in,” he said. I thought about it for a moment. “OK, if it was just the groom I’m sure I could do it,” I said.

“Have you ever let a man fuck you while others watched?” he asked. I nodded. I had been young, naïve and desperate to please. “Did you like it?” he queried. Ashamed, I did not answer, although the answer was yes.

I felt his hand move a bit higher up my thigh. He waited, watching me, then he asked again, “Tell me, did it turn you on to let others watch while you got fucked?” This time I nodded. “So if you fucked the groom, others could watch for a little extra, right?” he asked. “I guess so, as long as I only had to do the groom,” I said.

“Usually it is just the groom,” he said. “Usually?” I responded. “Sometimes the others in the wedding party like to get in on the action, but that is all negotiated in advance. I don’t usually do those deals because things can get a bit wild,” he said. “Things sometimes get out of hand?” I asked. “Don’t worry. I am always there to help if you ask for it,” he said, “and I always have a video camera running. It gives us leverage if things get out of hand.” I was surprised by this and asked, “Who owns the tape?” He replied saying “Company property.” I guess I should have asked what else the tapes were used for, and I should have asked to see one. After all, we were sitting right there with the big-screen TV right in front of us. Oh well, hindsight is perfect.

“OK,” he said, “I have about an hour before I have to get ready for the next appointment. Are you interested in this or not?” he asked. “Yes,” I answered. “And how about your availability? Could you work this Saturday night?” he asked. “I think so,” I replied. “Before we go further I need to know,” he said. “Yes I could make myself available,” I replied.

Frank then said “One last thing. Normally I would have a girl tested for disease before sending her to a job, but there just isn’t enough time between now and Saturday, so I need to ask you some questions. To begin with, are you sexually active?” I looked at him, puzzled, and said “With my husband, yes, but if you mean with other men, then no, not since we were married five years ago.” Frank looked surprised. “So you’ve been completely faithful to him?” he asked. Evasively but truthfully I replied, “Well, I haven’t let another man fuck me, if that is what you’re asking.” Frank went on, “OK, how about your husband, is he active?” I laughed.

“What are you going to tell your husband?” he asked. “I don’t know. I’ll figure out something so he doesn’t suspect,” I replied. “You’re bad,” Frank hissed.